Dragon Age: A Seer's choice
by Arei-The Peridot Dragon
Summary: Join Darren 'Amell' on his journey during the blight. Facing Love, loss, friendship, betrayal and madness. Pairing 'Amell'/Morrigan
1. Chapter 1

Dragon Age: A Seer's choice.

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Prologue: A Parents Hope.

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The name I go by is Darren Amell, but this is not my true name. For my own protection and the protection of my family I assumed the last name of a fallen fellow mage, not without her permission either.

Let me backtrack a bit, you might be confused.

My mother was a Seer. She had no magic beyond that and had even been checked by the Chantry when she was young to confirm she was no mage. Good for her on that, Seers are rare and while most Seers are mages, not all have to be so she was able to stay with her family. She was a lesser noble at court and had 'seen' who her husband would be. A stubborn man, tall and brave. Though he did not wish a marriage, especially not to a 'typical noble air-headed woman focused on jewels, dresses and titles', she dogged him the best way possible to win his heart, by being his friend first and foremost, for that is what he needed; A woman who knew how to fight, to be friend and confidant, to keep him on his toes. Oh, mother hardly ever had need to fight, but she always kept up pratice with her blades, even if she remained in a dress most days.

She admited to him from the start that she was a Seer, though he scoffed such nonsense. Most things she 'saw' and advised him on merely seemed to him common sense and not anything mystical. The only warning he did not believe at first, but had to believe later, was about me.

Once married she advised that she would have me that winter (they were married in spring). She also warned that it would be best that no one know I survived my birthing, to raise me in secret. She said that she had seen by age four I would inherit her ability to See, and that by age six I would show signs of magic and need to be taken to the Circle Tower. Father didn't believe it at first, but when I was born with dark blue eyes that turned pale blue within days of being born and a shock of red hair inherited from my grandfather on mothers side, he began to believe for she had forseen my coloring. His son, his Heir, his first born, could very well be a mage, a Seer at the least. Carefully they raised me in secret, and indeed by age four I had my first vision. I had seen myself being taken to the Fereldan Circle Tower with a young girl of around twelve. We were both mages and her mother hated her for it. Cursed her for it. She too would be a Seer and had Seen her fate if she arrived at the tower.

She would tell me one night on our journey about a demon of Pride taking over the Circle. Killing and torturing all there, including her. She saw her death and had decided that she did not want a life in a cage. I somehow would be safe when this happened. She told me that she saw great things for me and that I would need to hide behind another families name to protect my own loved ones. She would gift me with her families name, Amell.

The vision shifted then, somehow she attacked the templars with us without using magic, forcing them to kill her. She thanked them for their kindness in ending her life and the vision ended as I looked at their shocked and horror filled faces. Father had fretted over the vision, but still held out hope that I would not show signs of magic.

Thus Father was devestated by what happened shortly after I'd turned six summers old. I'd Seen that a poisionous snake had been placed in our home in the hopes of killing father and I had rushed to his side among other nobles. I had called to him, 'm'lord' and not father for I knew the danger, and sent out a bolt of lightning to kill the snake that was just about to strike his leg. The nobles had to be calmed swiftly, many feared that I had tried to kill Father. Mother's kind but firm tones, Father's angry baritone and the voice of one the other nobles simply called 'Teyrn' by the others calmed them as they showed off the burnt and crisped body of the snake.

Humor abounded then as 'Teyrn' named me 'Young Ser Mage' and thanked me for my quick thinking in saving a noble, he figured me for the child of a servant and Mother was quick to say that I was an orphan that they had taken in at the loss of one of their servants. I knew enough then not to be upset, it was a game we had practiced before time and again, but her words still hurt. Father's hand on my head, and a word of thanks was enough to still my tears, even if he called me 'boy' and not 'son'. He was proud of my bravery, I saw that in his eyes.

He did not blame nor rage at me or mother, but he was saddened greatly that he would have to send me away, that he would be forced to avoid acknowledging me, to treating me as an orphaned child of a servant, to prevent me from being harmed or used against him for power. Days later I had another vision and I told him not to worry, my sister would not be a mage and she would make him proud just as I would.

He admited then that had he not been needed, he would pack up our family and run for the hills never to be seen again, but he told me that 'a man knew his duty and did not shirk from it' and that I should take those words to heart. I promised him then, that I would take not only his words, but the words of Andraste to heart; Magic exists to serve man and never to rule over him. To me, child as I was then, and man I am now, those words are philosphical, not literal, and mean to warn a person against letting their power go to their heads and become tyrants that use their power for evil and foul deeds. Words came to mind then, echoing in my head like a vision and I knew others followed those words and perhaps were being told those words even now. I told my father 'I will serve that which is best in me, not that which is most base. Power, regardless of it being the power of a mage, a Lord or a King, should not be abused. I will make you proud to call me son, even if you can never acknowledge me to the public.'

Father had been surprised, I was six and still spoke as a child did, but these words he told me were the words of a man, and that even then he was so very proud of me. Father pulled me and Mother into a hug and I realized as he held us tight that he was crying. It was the only time I had ever seen him cry. He was our Rock, our Strength, he never cried. I did not want to go then, though I knew in my heart I would have to. The templars had already been sent for, it was too late.

They arrived days later, a young girl of twelve summers already in tow and I knew her for the Amell girl in my vision and she knew me for the Boy in hers. We immediately clasped hands together and would not be seperated for the journey.

Her first name was Lana and we spoke softly of our visions, hers and mine. The templars with us were kind, the elders name was Gregoir and the younger was Talon and they did not stop us from speaking and befriending each other.

Lana told me softly that she hated that she would hurt Talon, he was new to the order and would end up transfering out of Fereldan to Orlais, his grief making him unable to remain. I asked if what she planned was nessecary and she said that it was. Talon would be needed in Orlais and would find peace there in the years to come, and would die if he stayed in an accidental drowning. The Circle too needed this to happen she said, to forge his eventual replacement without her interference, a boy named Cullen. I did not press her on what she had Seen, her eyes had grown sad and wistful at the thought of this Cullen, much as Mother's had when she told me the secret of the vision had, had she convenced father to flee.

We would have forged a good, hidden life as farmers, Mother had said, but we would have fallen, all of us, to darkspawn shortly after I would turn twenty-five summers. The other path she Saw led to life, if I was careful, and mindful of my studies. I must be sure to study law, politics, fighting with a bladed staff, and war tactics. I asked why a bladed staff and she in turn asked me what I would do if the enemy fought past the warriors and targeted the helpless mage who only knew how to fight with his magics at a distance. I'd admitted that a bladed staff would be a good idea. She'd suggested a stong metal core in the staff to stop blades. I'd said my Mother's wisdom was on par with the Prophet. She'd laughed and tickled me senseless. It was my last memory of Mother and I cherished it dearly through the years.

I shared all of that with Lana in order to make her smile. She agreed with my Mothers wisdom.

The next night Lana thanked me for my kindness and for being the friend she needed at the end. She drew a dagger she'd hidden and lunged at the templars when we camped that night. Gregior kept his hands out and away from his sword trying to calm her, Talon had drawn out of instinct. Lana looked to Gregior sadly.

"I cannot go there. Things are changing, I've seen it. I will die in the method I choose and not by the cruelty of another."

"We are here to protect you. We will keep you safe child." Gregior had said.

"You can't. I don't know exactly how it happens or when, but you cannot stop what will happen at the circle. I choose my death now! Darren!" She turned slightly to me. "You must stay hidden from your families enemies. You are Amell now! Do not falter sweet boy, keep true to the words you told your father, the words that will guide the Hawk, the words that may yet save Thedas itself. Keep true!"

She lunged then at Gregior, and then turned last minute to force herself onto Talon's blade. He let out a choked cry as she forced the blade deep. Her last words were a whisper.

"Do not blame yourself for this. I am a coward. Do not..."

She slumped then on his blade, the life leaving her eyes. Gregior thought it prudent to search me for a weapon and then finding none did his best to comfort both myself and Talon. The pyer they built was small and I scrounged around as best I could under Gregior's watchful eye to find enough flowers to make a small wreath for Lana's Pyer. We stood vigil, all three of us, until the fire died down. Gregior emptied out a small box filled with lyrium potions and put some of her ashes within.

"I want to keep the box Ser." I told him the next day.

"I would return these ashes to her family my boy."

"You heard her Ser, I am an Amell now." I shuffled my feet. "She said her mum hated her, cursed her, I don't think she would want to have her ashes go back to her mum."

Gregior looked at me thoughtfully and then handed me the box. He said that I was probably right, and that it would be best to leave her remains with her 'brother'. The look in his eyes made me realise that he knew I was no servants son and that he knew just who my father was. He smiled at my nervous look and patted my shoulder.

"Don't worry my boy. Things will be fine, you will see. You're going home is all."

I nodded and he picked me up to carry me for the remainder of my walk, Lana's ashes in the small box held tight to my chest. I wished 'Home' wasn't so far away from my parents, but I would make them both proud.

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Welp... While I have two other stories going this one is jumping around through my head like crazy. I'm still working on the other two for Harry Potter and for Mass Effect if you would like to check them out.

Posting for my stories may end up being a little erractic, going through job interviews right now.

Still needing a Beta for my stories. If you are interested please PM me.

If you want any background for some of the things I want to try to do with this story please look at my Bio. This will be an 'Amell'/Morrigan fic. A lot of other things are up in the air right now on pairings. Imput will be welcome and reviewed. :)


	2. Chapter 2

My Muse is screaming in my ears.

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Chapter One: An Unusual Harrowing.

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The sun was shining brightly through the windows of the tower library and a bird would land on the windowsill every now and again to sing and pick at the bread crumbs I'd left. It was nearing the end of fall and would soon be deep winter, most birds found the tower a good place to rest as they made their way to warmer lands. The fact that we had fireplaces going all the time meant that the warmest places for the small things would be by the windows where the heat was trying to escape. I watched the latest bird as it pecked along the edge of the frame, picking up the last bit of bread fragments. I smiled and turned back to my book with a soft laugh, I'd have to remember to put more bread out later for the little things. I liked nature, it was calming to watch as the animals went about their lives.

The book I was reading was on the various natures of demons and spirits and was a fascinating read. Demons were tricksters, wanting to lure a human in so they could experience the human world, while most spirits wouldn't give you the time of day, having no interest in the physical realm. What made demons so different other then the emotions and ideals that the spirits represented? Could they be reflections of ourselves at our best and worst? How were they created? Could they...? A cough from the side interrupted my musing and I looked up from my book to see Cullen standing beside me.

"Ah! Cullen! How are you?" I smiled at the newly minted Templar.

For Lana's sake I'd kept an eye out on him since his arrival. Talon stayed around for only a month before finally being driven off by his grief at killing a child to Orlais for reassignment like she predicted. Cullen, who wasn't assigned to us until years later to begin his training. He was a friendly sort, if a bit green and like most of the Templars in our particular circle, felt that mages were people and not weapons or tools. Oh, we got a few bad eggs from time to time, those that tried to abuse their charges, but if one of the elder apprentices, Harrowed mages or even a kind hearted Templar like Cullen found out about the abuse, most were swift to take the information to Irving, who then went to Gregior.

We had a Ser Alrik here a while back who was forcibly reassigned within less then a month of his arrival. He'd been caught threatening a younger apprentice to 'service' him or be made Tranquil. It was Cullen who caught him and reported him in fact. Cullen had no real proof beyond his word against the elder Templar, the mage he was threatening was no more then a silent, shaking leaf when she was questioned. Gregior took his duties seriously though and did some digging. He found that there were similar complaints from other circles, again no proof, but enough complaints along the same vein that the Chantry decided to shuffle the problem along, multiple times, to multiple circles. Gregior got Alrik reassigned swiftly enough and even threatened the man with 'a fate worse then death' if he heard even one rumor of him trying such a thing again while in Fereldan as he gave him the boot, literally, out the door. The young girl he'd tried to coerce, Petra, had taken heart from Gregior's actions and had thrown her own boot out after him to clunk him on the head right before the Circle door's slammed shut much to the entire Circles amusement (Gregior had smiled! He never smiled!). Wynne had taken Petra under her wing shortly after that, intent on nurturing that budding courage to bloom.

We were lucky to have Gregior here in Fereldan. Some of the stories I've heard from the Mages who were reassigned to us were quite horrific concerning their former Circles treatment of Mages. Kirkwall seemed like one of the worse locations, horror stories abounded from those who came to us from there. It made be glad that my home could truly be a home especially for those that came from the other Circles and seemed to know not but pain. Here, they could heal. Here, even if the Templars were always watching, our Knight-Commander did not stand for abuse.

It also helped that Gregior, while firm, believed that the punishment had to fit the crime and that he needed solid proof of ones crimes before he would issue a punishment, regardless of if you were a Mage or a Templar. He needed a lot of evidence before he would turn an apprentice Tranquil, evidence that had to be provided by multiple sources. He'd even try to council young mages against going tranquil out of fear of the Harrowing, which was to apprentices an unknown ordeal. He was proud of the fact that we had a high survival rate for the Harrowing and only a single Tranquiled Mage, Owain. We still lost our share to the Harrowing, some people just didn't come back when they were taken in the night. One girl I'd been sweet on for a while, a shy thing with black hair and hazel eyes that was originally from Orlais and had the cutest accent, was one of the ones who hadn't come back.

That brought to mind one of the bigger downsides of living in the tower. Relationships, sexual relationships, were frowned upon. Outright forbidden when it came to relationships between Chantry members and Mages. Oh they happened, but if you got pregnant you were not keeping the child, the Circle was no place to raise a babe, we all knew it, we were in a gilded prison here in Fereldan. The Chantry itself would take in the child or have them fostered out, but closely watched for signs of magic. The child of two Mages is almost always guarenteed to be a Mage themselves and if the child showed signs of magic they were carted off to another Circle. It was heart wrenching when it happened. The Chantry's rules leashed us all. Not to mention the upset I felt when I first found out the the Templars were addicted to Lyrium. I longed to prove that it wasn't needed, to change things, to build a proper set of checks and balances for Mage and Templar alike. Maybe something like one Templar and one Mage, a partnership that the Mage could have with someone that they not only could trust with their life, but with their very death if they fell to a demon's temptations. But how did one usurp hundreds of years of religious doctrine without getting killed out right as a heretic? Eg, thoughts for another day.

The fact that Gregior was fair minded though was one of the reasons I felt bad for my friend Anders, who was currently down in the dungeons again in solitary and would still be there for another month or two. He kept escaping from the tower to freedom, honestly he was a bit of a rogue and I think he was mostly sneaking out to find some 'new ladies' each time he made his escape, thus his 'fit' punishment was to get locked up in solitary. He was stubborn though, I gave him that, six successful attempts so far at getting out and across the lake. Lucky bastard knew how to swim, I'd always wanted to learn, but after his first successful escape the Templars stopped teaching us anything more then how to float for those times that we were allowed outside in summer, too cold outside any other time of the year, Fereldan was not a warm country by any means, and it wouldn't help for any of the children to drown while playing in the water.

I honestly couldn't understand why he wouldn't go about obtaining freedom in a different manner, even if there had been rumors surrounding him and a group of Templars that were excommunicated one evening by Gregior a few years after Anders arrived here (he never talked about it either, always changed the subject, so the rumor-mongers in the Circle eventually had to let it go.), he was still the best healer in the Circle, even better then Wynne! If he behaved himself and showed some restraint he'd have his pick of plush positions in various cities as a healer to a Lord or Lady, Arl or Arlessa, Teyrn or Teyrna or even the Ki...

"DARREN!"

I jumped, dropping my book and looked sheepishly at Cullen who was staring at me in exasperation. I tended to get lost in thought quite a bit, when you had limited things you were able to do, well... I wasn't the only one who 'got lost in the clouds'.

"Ah... sorry? What were you saying?"

"I don't know what to do with you sometimes. I called you fifteen times." Cullen sighed and rolled his eyes. "You keep disappearing into your thoughts at the oddest times. Now as I was saying, 'I'm fine, but you're late to practice with Gregior with that staff of yours.'"

"Practice? Oh!" I jumped to my feet, reached down to grab my book and bolted for the door. "I forgot!"

"I swear you're always late!" Cullen called after me as I fled the library and ran down toward the Templar's training room near the bottom of the tower.

"Never! I arrive precisely when I mean to!" I called back with a laugh.

"Yeah! LATE!"

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I skidded into the training room, tossing my mages robe to the side. I had a simple tunic and breeches on underneath my robes at all times, as did most of the other mages, it gets cold in winter! I received an exasperated glare from Gregior as I moved to grab my staff. Gregior knew about and trusted my Seers ability as I'd warned him and Irving several times with my visions, it was one of the reasons why the tower cat, Mr. Wiggums, only killed two Templars instead of dozens, months ago when he got possessed by a rage demon. There'd been a small tear in the veil at the other end of the dungeons from where Anders had been.

Thankfully Gregior and Irving both confirmed there was no way Anders could have caused the incident so my escape oriented friend was left unharmed when one of the other Templars tried to raise a snit about loosing his friend to a possessed CAT of all things. Also prevented a young girl from drowning one summer, the Templar that was on guard was one of the older ones and was starting to suffer from Lyrium madness and wasn't aware of anything around him. Because of the reliability with my visions, Gregior and Irving both trusted me to undergo training with a glaive when I told them it would be needed. I'd seen myself fighting with a glaive often enough in my visions. Though why I'd be underground in a cave system fighting golems and a dwarf constantly screaming 'MINE!' well, even I didn't understand my visions sometimes.

The glaive was specially made by Irving, with runes to augment my magic, both Healing and Electrical which were my primary skills, and the blade itself was a wicked series of sharp points with a hook to trip my enemies to the ground. There was also a rounded sapphire at the pommel of the glaive to help channel my magic.

I was no good at the other classes of magic, like Entropy, and while I was 'alright' with the other elements, fire and ice, my skill with those elements didn't hold a candle to my skills with electricity. Honestly the most I could do with the Ice and Fire elements was creating a camp fire, making it snow (gently) and readying a hot bath when combining the two. If I Really wanted to be honest with myself I was pretty useless with those two elements. It was about the same with runes as well, just the little, almost useless, things.

Now Healing arts?

Wynne was the best being the most skilled and strong to boot. Anders was second, mainly because he slacked off but had the raw talent to surpass Wynne if he just focused (Wynne's own words). And I was the third strongest with that class of magic a good amount of raw talent combined with dedication as Wynne and Irving would say.

"You Sir Amell, are late." Gregior said in a soft, but disapproving tone once I moved into the ring.

"Yes Knight-Commander Ser, got lost in thought is all." I answered with a grin.

My nickname was, quite simply, Sir, ever since I explained to Gregior the reason behind my first bout of magic and the resultant praise and mock knighting from the Teyrn. It had taken root amongst the other apprentices as wel...

My thoughts were derailed as I instinctually blocked Gregior's strike at my legs.

"How many times do we have to go over this. Focus on the battle in front of you and keep your head out of the clouds!"

"But they're so white and shiny and fluffy!" I quipped at him, only to get a smack with the flat side of his blade on my thigh which made me yelp. I really needed to stop sneaking down to the dungeons to hang out with Anders, his snarkiness was rubbing off and it didn't help that I had a prankster's nature.

We continued to dance around each other, Gregior easily blocking my blows. The man had years of experience on me. I longed to be able to combine my magic with my glaive, maybe wear some light armor instead of the robes that just scream 'MAGE!' but while I could wear light armor(I had worked on building my stamina by running up and down the stairs of the tower while in leather armor I'd bought from the trader that visits every month or so) trying to channel my electrical spells down the glaive always resulted in me shocking myself bad enough that my hair would stand on end for days at a time. And trust me, seeing a boy with pale blue eyes and bright red hair going around with his hair sticking out at all angles makes for some easy jokes in the Circle, I was Sir Prized (Sir Prized, surprised, get it? Yeah I didn't either...) for a while as a result of that first attempt. Trimmed my hair after the first few times so it was only a couple inches long to minimize the teasing whenever I tried. Channel an Arcane Bolt, no problem. Channel Electricity? Problem, big problem!

"So is it true?" I asked, as I ducked under a strike that would have brained me. Even if it was the flat of the blade it still hurt if it connected!

"Is what true?" Gregior asked, trying to strike at my legs now.

I moved to block with my staff and he deftly pulled his strike as not to damage his blade. One little fact he was quick to correct me on when we started training was that a soldier NEVER wanted his blade to connect with another's. Blades were for stabbing, slicing and cutting, NOT for blocking, that's what you had a shield for. Connect a blade against another blade too often and you risked shattering your blade leaving yourself unarmed because of all the stress you've put the blade under. Gregior did admit that there were exceptions to that rule of course, blades made of Dragon Bone would not break under the stress of such blows and there were legends in our library about some kind of metal gifted by the gods, but generally you were taught to dodge a blow, not meet it head on with your sword.

"I heard a rumor about a Grey Warden coming to visit?" I jumped over another strike to my legs and swung for his head. He deflected the blow easily with his shield.

"Ah that. I find I'm no longer surprised at how fast rumors spread here." Gregior paused for a moment and then shrugged. "It's true enough, you might even meet him, though you have more important things to concern yourself with, like your studies."

"But to meet a Grey Warden..." I trailed off with a grin causing Gregior to roll his eyes and renew his attacks before I started reminiscing again.

"Head out of the clouds boy!"

"YIPE!" I yelped as one of his blows landed right on my rear end.

-=-=/*/**/*=-=-

Night comes quickly in Fereldan winter and I found myself despite the work out, awake and in my bunk reading one of my books by wisp-light while the others in the room slept peacefully. Jowan had the bunk above me and his soft snores were a comforting refrain. I'd been hearing some uncomfortable rumors lately about him being seen with some ancient arcane texts and worried that he was up to some kind of prank without me, and the pranks he planned without me Never ended well. He had a problem of not thinking things fully through that had landed him in trouble a time or two.

Admittedly my own pranks had gotten us into trouble but while I've had a few close calls here and there I haven't actually been caught in a prank since my fourteenth name-day. Wynne caught me actually, while I was setting up a surprise for her next healing class. I hadn't thought it was a big deal, the Rune I'd set up would trigger only when Wynne walked into the room and would have dropped a good sized bucket of tar over her. In turn once the bucket fell it would pull on the string set to trigger the feather pillow I had set up on a spring board to wack her in the face. In the end, I had the trap mostly set up and was just easing the bucket into place when Wynne startled me, resulting in me getting tarred and feathered instead. Lesson I took from that one? Always know your marks habits, observation is the key.

Jowan and I were both some of the oldest apprentices in the tower, though he had a couple years on me. I'd specifically asked not to undergo my Harrowing until Gregior felt my physical skills were on parr with my magical skills. Irving found it an odd request, but I asked him 'who ever expects a mage to fight with anything other then magic?' He'd decided to make an experiment of it to see if it helped, or hindered, the Harrowing. Irving fretted about it from time to time, I was his favored student and he felt I was taking an unnessecary risk.

I closed my book with a sigh and leaned my head back against the wall. Had I done well enough in the practice ring today? I thought about my movements throughout the spar and found myself lacking. Not one strike of mine landed on Gregior, the man was too wily. I could dodge quite a few of his blows but knew that if any of the ones that HAD hit been with more then the flat of his blade I would have, at the least, needed to deal with debilitating wound.

I had finally started to doze off when my book was wrenched from my hand, a gag wrapped round my mouth and a bag shoved over my head. I struggled instinctively and managed to land a solid blow with my foot on someone without armor. I wriggled away from the other person, wrenching the sack and gag off. I growled when I saw Jowan holding his stomach where I'd hit him and Petra laughing softly, hands glowing with healing energy held against Jowan.

"Ha! *cough* Got you good *cough* this time!" Jowan said with a pained grin. "You took Forever to fall asleep, you know!"

I ignored him for the moment and frowned at Petra. "Why are you helping him?"

"He was talking with the others about pranking you, no one wanted to help him. I figured if I helped him I could at least keep him from getting hurt too badly."

"Heeey!*cough* I'm not that *cough* helpless!" Jowan stood up once the glow faded from Petra's hands.

Both of us shot him a look that had him slumping.

"Well... not, you know, completely helpless."

Petra giggled as I rolled my eyes. I moved over and punched his shoulder, hard. I was rewarded with a quick flash, an image of the two of us surrounded by Templars, Jowan cutting his hand with a dagger, and some red-headed chit behind him, unnoticed by the others, with a satisfied sneer on her lips. The door opened before I could focus on the vision's details and we all fell quiet at seeing Gregior and Cullen stepping into the room.

"Why am I not surprised to see you three up?" Gregior said with a sigh as he rubbed the ridge of his nose.

"Hey! Those two woke me up with a prank!" I said indignantly, they immediately tried to protest their innocence. "I was just getting to sleep too!"

Cullen snickered and was quickly silenced by a glare from Gregior. He then turned the glare on Jowan and Petra who fell silent and without a word trekked back to their respective beds. Gregior turned to me and then sighed.

"You haven't slept?"

"Not yet. I was too keyed up. Don't know why." I shrugged and then frowned. "Why are you two here anyway?"

They didn't respond to my question at all. Instead Gregior moved to stand on my right, Cullen to my left. I frowned at them both as they each took one of my arms and led me out of the room. A glance over my shoulder at the other two showed them looking at me, fear and some small hope, for me, in their eyes. I blinked and turned to face ahead.

"Oh... Oh my."

They led me silently up the stairs. I could feel my nervousness start to swell. Sweat started to bead my forehead. This was it, the Harrowing. Andraste preserve me.

I was led to the top of the tower to the Harrowing chamber. Irving waited at the center of the large room, a single brazier in the middle of a wide, Rune-marked circle. My eyes were drawn to several of the Runes and I frowned. That one, there near the middle and repeated throughout the main pattern now that I'd noticed it, the little flame-leaf shaped one, that Rune tended to be used in Demon containment rituals. My eyes widened and my gaze shot up to Irving, nervousness being replaced with a sudden flash of fear.

"Ah." Irving sad with a sad smile. "You've figured it out then?"

"I may be pants at the practice of using Runes Senior Enchanter, but I know the theory well enough." I gulped as the two Templars let go of my arms and took up a relaxed stance with swords drawn. "This, it really involves demons?"

"It does." Irving indicated the brazier. "You will be entering the Fade. There you will have to face, and defeat, a Demon."

I glanced at Cullen and Gregior and then back to Irving. I tilted my head toward the two Templars.

"They're here for if I fail right? 'Off with his head' and all that?"

"If it is needed, then yes." Irving nodded once, his face stern. "I have faith in you though my boy."

"This is an ancient practice, Ser Amell." Gregior said. "As it stands you are a risk to yourself and all those around you for the simple fact that demons are attracted to Mages more then any other creature made by the Maker's hand. This test is in place to pit your will against one of the greatest dangers you could fall to; Temptation."

I nodded my head slowly, it was understandable in a sense. I frowned at the brazier.

"If you look at it one way, it's a method to cull the weak from the herd." I said softly, unintentionally voicing my thoughts.

"Darren." Irving's voice held an exasperated tone.

"What, it's true. You don't want weak willed Mages running about at risk of becoming abominations. This test is in place to see if they would have the will or not, forcing the issue, I get that, I do." I looked up at Irving with a frown. "But anyone could fall prey to a demon, not just Mages, and people forget that. Everyone visits the Fade every night they sleep, 'cept dwarves of course, so we all face temptation, whispers of power, in our dreams."

"That may be so." Gregior said, "But not everyone holds the power of the elements in their hands. There is a difference between a counterable possession and out right creation of an abomination."

"Right, which is why we have the Circle, to learn control. A good education for everyone would help people understand magic a lot better you know. Maybe we wouldn't have to be locked up so tight." I sighed softly, thinking about the stories of the other Circles.

Irving and Gregior shared a look and I waved a finger at the two of them suddenly, a grin on my lips. I channeled Wynne for a moment, trying to bury my fear behind humor.

"Don't go burning the tower down around my ears now!" I joked. They both gave long-suffering sighs, Cullen's lip was twitching as he struggled to repress his laughter.

"Whelp." I said clapping my hands together and moving over to the brazier. "You've cost me a bet by the way."

"Oh?" Irving said, a faint hint of humor breaking through his serious mask.

"Yep! Bet we had to face a dragon! You owe me five coppers." I said as seriously as possible.

My hand hit the brazier and I fell asleep to Irving's chuckling, Cullen's snickering and another long sigh from Gregior.

-=-=/*/**/*=-=-

I awoke feeling dizzy. The world around me seemed to be constantly shifting and changing and had a misty quality to it. The Raw Fade in all it's glory. Looked better when I dreamed, could have a nice little garden or a river, this? Just... barren. I didn't like it. I looked around slowly as I stood. There seemed to be nothing present. Figured the battle would have begun immediately but it didn't. I looked myself over and saw that I was still in my apprentice robes. I nodded to myself and then held out my hand. This was the world of dreams and thought. Mages could manipulate the world of dreams, to an extent. I willed my glaive to my hand and grinned as I watched the weapon materialize from the ether.

"Wow! That's impressive! I've never seen anyone do that when they first arrive here!" A voice called from behind me.

I spun around, glaive spinning as I shifted into a defensive stance. Nothing was there, though I heard a skittering noise.

"Oh my, please don't step on me."

I started and looked down. Well... that was new. I was looking at a talking...

"Are you supposed to be a large mouse or a small rat?" I asked in a confused tone, the rodent was too big to be a mouse but still too small to be a rat and looked to be fully grown, with a few bald patches to boot.

"Ah... either? Both?" The rodent raised itself and twitched it's, his by the voice, nose at me. "Everyone calls me 'Mouse' so I suppose a large mouse would be accurate? You have to hide from the big things and learn from the little things here."

I nodded at the wisdom of his words but didn't relax my stance.

"Umm... ah... Don't...attack me? I'm... going... to do something."

I raised a brow at him and didn't move. He started to shimmer and then grew. The shimmering resolved itself into the shape of a man and then solidified. He had dirty-blonde hair and blue eyes. His face was rather nondescript for the most part. His eyes though kept darting back and forth as he seemed to hunch in on himself a touch.

The curious thing was he was wearing full Mage robes and that set off alarm bells in my head.

"So... another morsel tossed to the wolves? It's not right what the Templars do you know...not to you, me or anyone." The man sounded more despondent then angry as he spoke.

I kept silent and eased my stance, leaning against the wood of my staff as I braced it against the ground.

"I'm Mouse."

"...Darren Amell." I said, keeping relaxed but watchful. "What happened to you then?"

"I... took too long? I think?" 'Mouse' shrugged. "The Templar's dragged me from my bed, had me enter the Fade. I was supposed to fight a demon but, I couldn't find it. Maybe didn't want to find it. You, feel that link right? To your body?"

I blinked, focusing and then nodded slowly, I was still, in part, aware of my body laying on cold stone floor. If I was focusing it was almost like I was daydreaming, but the moment I stopped focusing I was firmly in the fade.

"Well, that's an odd sensation."

"I know!" Mouse smiled faintly and then gave a sad frown. "I had to have taken too long. I could feel it as they slid the blade home in my flesh."

"So I need to be quick about it then."

"Yes. I can show you about if you'd like?" He sounded eager, glad to not be alone I suspected. "I've been here long enough... I know the routine." His voice grew despondent again.

I looked him over again, still not shaking the feeling that something was off but in the end I shrugged.

"Sure, I don't mind. You probably don't get to talk to someone who doesn't want to eat you all that often right?"

Mouse nodded and gave a nervous sounding laugh. He shrank back down into his rodent form and scurried to sit next to my leg. I looked down at him for a few moments and then, shrugging, I started off down the only path I could see.

Wisps and ghost wolves popped up every so often, easily taken care of with a basic Arcane Bolt or a slash from the blade of my glaive. Mouse piped up every now and then with words of praise.

We came across a Spirit of Valor and I found myself questioning the Spirit about multiple things. Why did he have the rack of weapons? Did he make the weapons on the rack? Did he know any other Spirits? Did he just pop into existence one day? Did he approve of the Harrowing?(Note; he didn't. He felt that a one on one battle to test our skill was a better idea. He thought the Harrowing as it was, was cowardly.) I asked if he could help me fight the demon? He challenged me to a fight and only if I won would he assist.

Mouse broke into the conversation at that point, reminding me that we were on limited time. I had to fight back my disappointment, I'd wanted to actually test myself against the Spirit. But Mouse was right, I didn't have the time for it.

We moved past a wide open spot and I circled around it looking for clues. All I could find were the spikes of Fade Lyrium and no signs of a demon. Shrugging I continued on and came across a rather ugly, torn up, diseased and spiked bear. I blinked at the creature as it snoozed and carefully moved over to it, glaive at the ready.

"Um... Pardon me?" I said. The bear snorted and opened one eye to look at me. "Are you the Demon I'm supposed to fight?"

"Hmmmmm?" The bear opened both eyes and looked up at me with a blink. "Fight? Oh no... too much... *yawn* effort... to fight."

I blinked a bit and relaxed again. I glanced down at Mouse with a raised brow.

"Sloth Demon." Mouse said, raising up and nodding his little rodent head. "They tend to be pretty laid back."

"Hmmm, hello Mouse... still... scurrying about...?" The Sloth Demon asked.

"Ah... Yes, hello again." Mouse ducked behind my leg.

I snorted softly, trying to hide my amusement.

"So, Ser Sloth, have you been here a long time too?"

"Oh yes... younglings come... and they go... or they make deals... and then they die." The bear shifted to where he was sitting up. "Makes... no difference *yawn* to me."

"I can tell." I said with a wry grin. "So would you be able to help me at all? Tell me about the demon I have to face?"

"Hmmmm... No... No I don't think I will. *yawn* Too much effort."

"Uh huh." I blinked. "Oh, how about teaching me to be a bear? That would be interesting."

"You...? No... That wouldn't do... Mouse though...*yawn* he could learn."

"ME?! Why would I want to be a bear!?"

"Well, think about it. All you can turn into is yourself and a... large mouse right? What happens if you get stuck? Having a nice large scary bear form would certainly deter me if I tried to attack you."

"...you think so?" Mouse said.

"Oh yes." I nodded firmly and turned back to the Demon. "Could you teach Mouse?"

"Hmmm... No, I don't think I will." The bear laid back down and closed his eyes.

I blinked and then tapped the bear on the nose lightly with my staff. He opened one eye back up and looked at me wearily and with no small amount of pending violence.

"Can't I do something to convince you otherwise? Long as you don't ask to possess me, I mean."

"Oh very well... I supposed you'll keep...*yawn* pestering me?"

"Yup!" I grinned at him.

"Fine... fine." The Demon raised himself back up with a sigh so like Gregior's and Irving's when I annoyed them enough. "Riddles then... If you answer three correctly... I will teach Mouse. If you don't *yawn*... I get to eat you both."

"Ah... well..." I blinked. "Fair enough I suppose. Eatings not the same as possession for demons right?"

"No... No. Your body will just... die."

"Ah. Alright then. Your riddles?"

"Hmm... I have seas with no water, coasts with no sand, towns without people, mountains without land. What *yawn* am I?"

I'd heard this one before and almost answered with the same sarcastic response Anders had given when he initially heard it. I slapped a hand over my mouth, snickered and then took a slow breath, almost choking on it.

"You alright?" Mouse asked, one rodent paw tugging on the hem of my robe.

"Yes, fine. Just thought of something a friend said in response to that riddle. Ahem!" I coughed into my hand and turned back to Sloth. "'A map', the answer is 'a map' good ser."

"Hmmm... too bad..." I blinked in surprise, "You got it correct..." I relaxed with a sigh. He'd meant too bad for Him, "I'm actually getting... a touch hungry, you know. Well then... I am rarely touched, but often held. If you have wit, you will use me well.*yawn* What am I?"

"Eh?" Mouse said, obviously lost.

"Hrm... rarely touched... oft held," I tapped my chin, "wit...use well... 'My tongue'," I said, snapping my fingers, "the answer is 'My tongue.'"

"Hmmm... correct." Sloth yawned. "Very well... final riddle then. Often I will spin a tale, never will I charge a fee. I'll amuse you an entire eve, but, alas, you won't remember me. What am I?"

"I'm lost." Mouse said softly. "I'm going to sit over there."

I waved a hand at him and he moved off to the side. I sat down and leaned against my staff. I looked up at the black splotch in the sky that most took to be the Black city and thought about the riddle. Sloth slid so he was laying back down and kept his eyes on me. I tapped my staff slowly.

"You know... in a way the only thing I can think of makes sense but the problem is that you CAN remember it, sometimes you can't help but to remember it, especially if it's a bad one."

"Remember what?" Mouse asked.

"'A dream.'" I sighed and looked Sloth in the eye. "The only answer, an answer that doesn't quite work, is 'A dream.'"

"Hmmm... yes..." Sloth stood and shook himself out. "A very apropos riddle for the Fade... isn't it? And you are correct, if you take things... quite so...*yawn* literally. Now... Mouse, come here."

Mouse moved over and I stood and moved out of their way. It seemed to only take a few moments but Mouse was suddenly in the form of a large, brown bear.

"Like this? It feels... I don't know, Heavy."

"Hmmmm... it will do. Now go, and leave me to my... *yawn* rest." With that Sloth slumped back down and curled into a tight ball.

I started walking away and Mouse lumbered after me. I waited until we were a good bit away from Sloth.

"Feel good? Being a big strong bear?" I asked.

"Different, it feels different. But it does feel strong, too."

I chuckled and patted him on the head. I looked around with a frown.

"We're going back the way we came, is there no other path?"

"No... we have to go back now, to that clearing."

"Ah."

We fell silent as we moved, I tried to focus a moment on my real body and could just faintly hear Gregior and Irving talking, but I couldn't make out any words. I frowned and picked up my pace.

"Is something wrong?"

"I don't want to take much longer Mouse, I don't know how long I've been here and I am intend to go home."

We reached the clearing and a Rage Demon popped up. Ugly and slimy, the thing looked to be like an evil, mobile blob of gelatin. It puffed itself up and started to move forward, opening its mouth to speak.

"Oh great, a Flan Demon." I said intent on cutting off any attempt the Demon might make in conversation. What I said though caused the Rage Demon to suddenly deflate in confusion. Even Mouse shot me an incredulous look.

"Flan... Demon?" The Rage Demon said.

"Don't ask," I said with a grin and spun my glaive, "you'll never know!"

I lunged forward at that, not giving the Demon any time to respond. Mouse let out a startled shout and followed after me, a... well, a squeaking roar escaped him as he charged.

I had to fight down inappropriate laughter and worked on dodging Rage's attacks. I slashed down with my glaive and cut holes into Rage's hide. I twisted and spun out of the way of his slashes, sending a Arcane Bolt out at him from the jeweled pommel of the glaive.

As I kept Rage's attention on me, Mouse moved in from behind to attack and maul the Demon. I leapt back and out of the way while the two struggled. Mouse was finally pushed back with a vicious slash to his side and I darted in and stabbed my glaive through Rage's chest. It gave a wailing cry and it's body started to bulge. I let go of the glaive and jumped to the side right as the Demon exploded.

I sat up and started to wipe the Demon goop off but noticed that Mouse was still, human form now, but the gash in his side was still pretty bad. I rushed over to him and channelled a healing spell at him. The wound healed fast, faster then it would in the physical world. I let out a sigh of relief as he opened his eyes and sat up.

"We... won? We won!" Mouse grinned at me and I couldn't help but grin back.

"We did, thank you. You were very brave." I patted his shoulder.

"Me? I did nothing, did you see the way you moved? It was amazing!"

I felt a flash of pride at his words and started to say something. I paused however when I realized something. I looked Mouse over slowly. Mage robes, fully Harrowed Mage robes. He'd also done nothing but praise my skills. Looking closer he showed no signs any longer of the hunched and hunted look he had projected when we first met. I smiled suddenly and patted his hand.

"I supposed the spell will end soon. Thank you for your help."

"No, thank you for healing me. You didn't have to." He tried to effect a disappointed stance but I could see through it now. "I suppose I'll be left alone now. Unless..."

"Hush." I said as I held up a hand, "Don't spoil it now Mouse, please? I Know."

I dropped my hand and crossed my arms. He mimicked my posture and looked me over slowly. A dark look flashed in his eyes before he nodded. He grinned then, friendly facade firmly back in place.

"How'd you know?" He asked, honest curiosity ringing in his tone.

"The robes were the biggest clue." I nodded to his and then indicated mine.

"Ah..." He looked closely and then nodded, flashing me an embarrassed grin, "always the small details."

"Mmhmm." I shifted my stance. "Any pearls of wisdom before I wake up?"

"Just this," Mouse started to walk away and called over his shoulder, his voice changing and becoming deeper, darker as he faded from sight. "Simple killing is a warrior's job. The real dangers of the Fade are preconceptions... careless trust... pride. Keep your wits about you, mage. True tests... never end."

I felt the pull of consciousness and didn't fight it. It was time to wake up, time to go home. Excitement flared through me. I'd passed my Harrowing!

-=-=/*/**/*=-=-

Yay! Chappie done. Feel quite full of Pride myself right now. Heh. Hope you all enjoy! Please clicky and review! Still taking pairing suggestions for the others!


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